A Bee in Her Bonnet (33 page)

Bitsy emerged from the back room just as Rose wrapped Josiah's loaf of bread in the tinfoil. She squinted in Josiah's direction. “What are you doing, baby sister?”

Rose drew her brows together. “I'm sorry, Aunt Bitsy, but I'm sending some bread home with Josiah.”

Bitsy gave Josiah the stink eye, for what he didn't know, but he'd kind of been expecting it all morning. “Absolutely not.”

“But, Aunt Bitsy, we have an extra loaf.”

Bitsy looked as if she were ready to pounce on him. “Josiah should know the rules.”

“What rules?” Josiah said.

Bitsy held up one finger. “Number one. No kissing on the porch.”

Rose turned bright red. “Aunt Bitsy!”

Bitsy put her arm around Rose. “That's just for Lily and Poppy, baby sister.” She glared at Josiah. “Right?”

Josiah's throat constricted. The thought of kissing on the porch probably gave Rose nightmares. How could Bitsy be so cruel as to plant that thought in her niece's head and scare her off ever wanting to talk to him again? No matter that Josiah was hoping to kiss Rose on somebody's porch, it was Rose's feelings that mattered right now. “No kissing on the porch,” he finally said.

Bitsy eyed him as if she didn't believe a word he said and held up a second finger. “Number two. No allowing Paul Glick into the house.” Paul Glick was Lily's ex-boyfriend, and he had a mean streak a mile long.

Josiah couldn't much blame Bitsy for that rule. Lily's fiancé Dan Kanagy was Josiah's best friend, and Paul Glick had made Dan's life wonderful miserable.

“Number three. Don't feed the boys. They are like stray cats. If you feed them once, they will keep coming back. I don't need another stray cat.”

Josiah took a deep breath to try to clear off the wagon that seemed to have parked on his chest. “I'm sorry. I don't want any bad feelings. I won't take not even one slice.”

Rose wrapped her arms around her
aendi
's neck and leaned her head so they were touching foreheads. “Aunt Bitsy, Josiah lives all alone without a soul to cook for him.”

She was defending him? He felt like singing. “It's okay. I completely respect your
aendi
's rules. Nobody asked me to barge into your house.”

Bitsy was firm as a mountain. “His sister feeds him sometimes, and he's twenty-one years old.”

“Twenty-two,” Josiah said. “I'll be twenty-three next week.”

Bitsy nodded. “Plenty old to take care of himself.”

“I've taken care of myself for four years.”

“He won't starve,” Bitsy insisted.

Josiah met Bitsy's eye with a steady and earnest gaze. “And I wouldn't see Rose upset for the whole world.”

She narrowed her eyes into slits. “Neither would I.”

Rose was on the verge of tears. “But, Aunt Bitsy, he's an orphan. Like me.”

Bitsy scrunched her lips together as a sigh rumbled deep in her throat. The sigh turned into a grunt, which came out of her mouth as a growl. She lifted her gaze to the ceiling. “You know I have a soft spot for orphans. Why does he have to be an orphan?”

Was she talking to
Gotte
? Probably, unless someone Josiah didn't know about lived upstairs.

Bitsy threw up her hands in surrender. “Fine. Give the orphan a loaf of bread if it makes you happy.”

Josiah pinned Rose with a serious gaze “But only if it makes you happy.”

Rose curled her lips slightly. “It does.”

“It's just a loaf of bread, Josiah,” Bitsy said. “You've got to promise not to take it the wrong way.”

“I promise,” he said, with no idea what the “wrong way” was. Anything to make Bitsy happy. And Rose.

Rose handed the loaf to Josiah.

“You made this?” he said.

“
Jah
. It's honey wheat.”

He smiled. “I think I've died and gone to heaven.”

“Just so long as you do your dying somewhere besides my yard,” Bitsy said. “Bees are funny about things like death.”

Josiah opened the door, rested his hand on the handle, and looked at Rose. “If you ever need anything—jars to be opened or basil or fennel or new shoelaces—please let me know. I'll do whatever you need. Okay?”

“Okay,” Rose said, seeming all the more embarrassed. He should probably quit talking.

He stared at the loaf of bread in his hand. Rose had freely offered him this bread, even when her aunt had resisted. She had smiled at him in an unguarded moment. Maybe she wasn't terrified of him. Maybe she liked him okay. Maybe there was hope he could soften her up.

“You're looking at that bread as if you're contemplating scripture,” Bitsy said. “Don't you have crops to get to? You shouldn't let all those muscles go to waste.”

He tucked the loaf under one arm. “Sorry. I just want you to know that I'm very grateful for the bread. Not everyone gets something from Rose Christner's kitchen.”

“Oh
sis yuscht
,” Bitsy said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “You're taking it the wrong way. Against my better judgment, I let Rose give it to you, and now you're taking it the wrong way.” She looked up to the ceiling. “Heaven help us.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jennifer Beckstrand
is the bestselling author of
The Matchmakers of Huckleberry Hill
series and the
Forever After in Apple Lake
series, set in two Amish communities in beautiful Wisconsin. She has always been drawn to the strong faith and the enduring family ties of the Plain people and loves writing about the antics of Anna and Felty Helmuth. Jennifer has a degree in mathematics and a background in editing. She and her husband have been married for thirty years, and she has four daughters, two sons, and two adorable grandsons, whom she spoils rotten. Readers can visit her website at
JenniferBeckstrand.com
.